Before Beasts, There Was Fire
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Everyone on the team is taken with Ayah-except Kai. No way is he about to let his guard down to the inhuman girl who had just stolen their souls, no matter her good intentions or her unearthly beauty. Besides, he has bigger fish to fry. After all, he had just unleashed his assassin's blade on the world, and someone from Biovolt has noticed...and isn't pleased.
1. Beasts Series Order

Order of the "Before Beasts" series:

1\. Sound

2\. Fire

3\. Wind

4\. Water

5\. Metal

6\. Storms

7\. Lightning

8\. Ice

9\. Light

10\. Time

(freaking site keeps breaking down my chapters to code. X.X Sorry about that. I fix.)


	2. Not Human

Book 2

Before Beasts, There Was Light

By LoweFantasy

Previously (in the first book): _Kai has kept it a secret from his team that what the Abbey had really been training him into wasn't just to become a beyblading pawn to his grandfather, but also as a ninja-like assassin using his beyblade as the ultimate weapon. Kai has killed before, but doesn't intend to bring his old skills out-until a beyblader comes and uses a girl with a mysterious voice to steal, not only Tyson and Max's bitbeasts, but their souls as well. The girl, named Ayah, turns out to be just as much a prisoner as Tyson and Max's souls and nearly dies when she tries to avoid stealing Ray's soul as well. Not knowing she has survived, Ayah is left from her captors long enough to give Kai a map to Tyson and Max's souls, to which he uses his bad-a beyblade assassin's skills to break in, slice the Achilles tendons of guards, avoid armed men, and escape with the souls and bitbeasts of his team mates._

1

Kai was content to eat his hospital fare and slip back off to sleep. But, as his team often did, they sought him out and then convened for a discussion, using him as a sort of marker for a meeting place. It often worked this way rather than they try to bring him out to them. He must really be imposing, he thought with a wry smile.

Tyson and Max had already dressed into their everyday clothes, having finished the last of their tests and just waiting to be checked out by a guardian. Ray had dressed as well, though he still wore the bandage about his head. It didn't affect his hearing, though he did request that they keep it quiet as his ears were still sensitive. The only one who had to be reminded of this was Tyson. Kenny had also come to the circle lounging about Kai's bed, opening Dizzy by Kai's foot. And, for some unknown reason, Hilary had come as well, probably with the excuse of visiting him as Ray was also dressed and ready to leave with Tyson, whose grandfather served as Ray's temporary guardian whenever he was over in Japan.

"The hospital doesn't have a clue who she is, and she either is hiding it or doesn't seem to know herself," said Kenny in a low voice, as though afraid of being heard. "I couldn't find any missing person reports on her either. She's in a very precarious situation. With her care adding up on the bill, the hospital might just hand her off to anyone willing to pay it."

"That's horrible!" said Hillary.

"You mean those creeps could come and take her back to that—that—" Tyson had never been very eloquent with words, and he couldn't seem to find one now. Apparently Ray had told him about what Kai had found about her, though none of them had yet to ask him how he knew. They would ask eventually.

Ray didn't seem to have forgiven Kai yet, for he stood next to the window rather than in a chair about Kai's bed.

Kai just took another scoop of his potatoes. They tasted dry. That was okay. He planned on checking himself out after he finished. He could pick up his pain meds and head somewhere that had proper nutrition.

"Maybe that's why she tried to run away," said Ray, watching something out the window. "I ran into her coming out of Kai's room. She looked…desperate."

"I think there's more to it than that."

Everyone's attention turned to Kenny, except Tyson, who had been eyeballing Kai's cup of pudding since he had come in and chose now to say something about it.

"Hey, Kai, can I have your pudding?"

Kai shrugged and the pudding was gone.

Kenny went on as though Tyson's shameless devouring of the pudding cup didn't occur. "Now you guys can't say a word or I can be in some major—and I mean _major_ trouble with the state, but I…I took a peek into her hospital file and read the doctor's notes hoping I could find something like, I don't know, a tattoo or something that could help me narrow down my search and I found some very odd figures. For one, she's only 85 pounds and she's the same height as Hillary! By any cases, that's dangerously skinny, we're talking organ failure and tremors and hair all over you—nothing but bone. But I dropped by to take a look at her and she doesn't look anorexic at all." Pink had flushed up to his face at this point, which Max didn't miss.

"Kenny, you perv, just how close of a look did you take?"

"I have morals!" Kenny snapped. "My point is, it's extremely odd, but I think I know why it is." He twisted his laptop around to show the screen, where some x-rays of a neck and skull were shown. "These are the x-rays they took to make sure her neck and skull weren't damaged—basic procedure to electrocution accidents. Usually bones display on an x-ray are completely white, but here they're mostly grey with a white outline—at least in the thicker bones. In the doctor's notes he mentioned that she may have a severe case of osteoporosis, though he had his doubts as she couldn't have gotten through all that without breaking something. But after I googled a bit, I found that her bones have similarities to a bird's in the fact that they, well…they're hollow—which, if they were, would also explain how she is so light."

Kai snorted. "You ever thought it was all that hair? Stopping her from breaking her bones, that is."

Now they were staring at him, but Ray downright glared.

"Not now, Kai."

Tyson stopped his struggles to stretch his tongue to the end of the pudding cup to look between Ray and Kai in confusion. "Alright, what's going on between you two?"

"Nothing," said Ray, looking back to the window with something almost like a pout. "So you think she might have hollow bones, Chief? How is that different from osteoporosis?"

Kenny didn't need any encouragement to continue his lecture. He'd make a good professor one day. "Birds bones are made out of a helix design which makes bones lighter for flight without having to sacrifice strength or support."

"Then, jee, why don't we all have hollow bones?" asked Max.

"Just because they're just as strong as our bones doesn't mean they're as durable," said Kenny.

" _Right,_ " buzzed in Dizzy. " _You land bound creatures put a lot of impact on your bones and joints through walking and running and jumping. Birds don't run or bang around on their bones nearly as much, as they shouldn't. Their design of bones wouldn't put up with it, and they'd end up riddling their bones with stress factors."_

"That being said," said Kenny, turning back his laptop. "If my theory is correct, Ayah might not be the best long-distance runner. It's probably painful for her. Though that brings me back as to why I have this theory at all…"

When Kenny didn't respond right away, just clicked here and there on his laptop, the team began to fidget.

"Come on, Chief," said Tyson, chucking the empty pudding cup into the trash and now eyeing Kai's jello. "What kind of person has hollow bones but doesn't have osteo-whatsits? Isn't that what osteo-whatsists is?"

"Well…I found this other note from her doctor…" Kenny bit his lip and looked up. "It says she has three vocal chords, and that he double checked the machine to make sure it was working properly."

"That would explain how she's able to make all those weird noises," said Hillary with a shrug.

"But they haven't even taken a look at her ears," said Kenny softly, twisting the laptop around again to show a zoom in on the top of the previous x-rays. He circled about the middle of the skull, where her ears would be. "There was only a side note to look into it later as a possible birth defect, but her ear cavities are…well, here, I pulled up a picture from the web of a normal person's ear cavity."

The difference made Tyson and Hillary cry out, while Max just gave a low whistle.

"Guess that can explain why she can hear so well, right?" he said with his usual joviality.

"How can you be so light about this?" Kenny asked, no longer red but pale. "Can't you see? This is why she really tried to get out of here after releasing Tyson and Max's souls. If the doctor's catch on to how…how…"

"Inhuman," said Kai, handing out his jello to Tyson, who was instantly distracted from the screen.

Ray turned from the window sharply, a fang flashing as he spoke. "We don't know that. Didn't you say there was some sort of giant test tube thing down there? Maybe they made her this way."

Kai snorted. "I doubt it. You forget, I'm acquainted with human modification, and the tools they had on hand were mere desk toys."

Now everyone was giving him half alarmed, half bemused looks.

"You're—you're modified?" asked Tyson stupidly through a square of jello.

Kai rolled his eyes. "Tala. He wasn't the first. And for the record, I'm one hundred percent natural."

Kenny adjusted his glasses. "Well, we can never be sure they don't just have advances in their technology that makes it more space conservative—"

Hillary threw up her arms. "Hold on a second, is no one going to ask how Kai knows this? How did he even get those ball thingies back from them in the first place, let alone get shot?"

"Shot?" yelped Tyson and Max. Ray cringed and made a weak plea for lower voices.

Kai only needed a few seconds to debate on his answer. "I went to their place, picked up the orbs, and one of them didn't like that, so they shot me on the way out."

Tyson and Max looked rightly impressed, though Hillary folded her arms and gave him a little disbelieving frown. Ray didn't seem to care either way, and Kenny kept his eyes to the screen.

"It doesn't matter how he got them," Kenny said quietly. "The point is, he got them, and because of that Tyson and Max aren't soulless vegetables—"

"What were you thinking?" asked Hillary. "You could have died! Didn't you care how dangerous it was? Why couldn't you ask the police to help?"

That amused him. It amused him so much he decided to settle with a smirk and finished the last bites of his sandwich. It didn't taste too bad despite the bad introduction the mashed potatoes made.

"Back on topic, guys," Ray leaned against the window in a very Kai-like pose, arms crossed and expression grim. "She stays sedated here, she'll be wide open to the people who did this to her. We have to figure out how to get her out."

"She can stay with me!" piped up Tyson instantly, though even Kai didn't miss the little gleam to his eye.

"No way, you pervert!" Hillary slapped him on the back of the head. "Besides, there're laws. Do we know if she's a minor or not?"

Kenny shook his head. "There might be ways to determine her age, but I wouldn't know. But they put her down as somewhere between fifteen and twenty. And you're right, Hillary, there are laws, though I think the hospital would be willing to overlook it if we're willing to pay her bill."

"Alright, then," piped up Max. "How much? It shouldn't be that bad."

"Um…"

"Come on, Chief, lay it on us."

"…fifty thousand yen…or so."

There was a brief, stunned quiet before Tyson made a theatrical fall off of Kai's bed. Kai inwardly snickered. Tyson did have his funny moments. Not that he would ever let him know that Kai found him amusing, though he suspected the other boy already did.

"There's no way I could ask my parents for that much!" cried Max.

"Fifty what?" squeaked Hillary.

"And that's just the base charge," muttered Kenny. "For the, uh, room and…stuff."

"You got to be joking!"

"Well, there goes my lemonade stand idea," muttered Tyson.

And then they were all looking at Kai again. Kai didn't much care for attention, especially since he had never wanted to be a part of this little powwow in the first place. Why'd they all choose his bed to talk about this anyways?

But he wasn't stupid.

"No."

The others blanched.

"Oh, come on, Kai, you're the only one who has the money!" said Tyson.

"Yeah, and you saw how they were treating her!" cried Hillary. "No one can be that heartless!"

Kai felt a tick above his eyebrow. This lot really was a bunch of children. They really didn't know how the real world worked.

"For your information," he said little above a growl. "I'm not made out of money. Just because I'm set to inherit a lot doesn't mean that I have already, or that it's going to be given to me in pretty bundles of cash. Most of my grandfather's wealth is in the form of real estate and stocks, and those take time to sell, if they sell at all. Also, if you recall, his biggest investment went down the drain with the rest of Biovolt." Not to mention taxes and the effort it would take to transfer money from the Russian bank (which never liked revenue leaving the country) to the Japanese equivalent would take weeks, and by then Ayah would have already been reclaimed.

Tyson looked the most let down out of the rest of them. Kai wondered if he had been hoping to persuade him to fly them to his mansion and let Tyson have reign over the place.

Ray had turned red again, and not in a good way.

"Then why can't you just sell something?" he asked, fist clenching. "Or do you hate her that much?"

"Whoa, hang on," said Kenny, acting just as startled as the others by the sudden tension between the tiger and the phoenix. "I have other ideas! Money would have just been the easiest."

"Then get talking, Kenny, before Ray starts clawing at things!" said Tyson, half laughing.

Hillary groaned and put her fingers to her brow as Ray tipped Tyson off of Kai's bed for the second time. "Really, Tyson?"

"A-anyways," Kenny gulped at the pained groans of the other boy. A fight was sure to ensue. "If one of our parents is willing to sign as her temporary guardian before someone else does, we could get her out of here before those people can. There'd be a lot to take responsibility for, such as the cost of her medication and making sure she is taken care of, also food and a roof over her head—and I don't know how the State reimburses for that—"

Tyson jumped up, aggression towards Ray forgotten. "Then back to me! Come on, I got loads of room! And the moment grandpa sees her," he grinned. "He'll be all down for having her stay."

Ray and Hillary gaped in aghast.

Max laughed. "Relax, guys, I can ask my dad. We got plenty of room too."

"And I'll ask my mom," Hillary said with a distinct glare towards Tyson. "No way am I letting that poor thing get in the hands of that old creep."

"Hey! That's my Gramps you're talking about! And I didn't mean that at all, he's just always wanted a granddaughter."

"Then why'd you have to say it like that?"

"Like what? You just decided that on your own because you think all men are perverts."

"That's because all men _are_ perverts, pervert! How else was I supposed to read that dirty smirk?"

"Guys, please," whined Ray, his hands over the gauze on his ears.

But it was Kai who broke. After all, he hadn't invited them here in the first place, and he never did well in groups.

"Out."

Tyson and Hillary stopped mid shout to stare at him. "What was that, buddy?"

" _Get out._ "


	3. Without a Family

2

Max and Hillary slipped off his bed, and Kenny closed and hugged his laptop to his chest as though Kai might lash out and throw it against the wall. Their treatment of him like he was explosive irritated him further still.

But, after a few muttered apologies and attempts to…unawkwardize the situation, they filed out.

Tyson, however, didn't leave. Hillary made a lot of hissing noises in attempts to get him to follow, but he just ignored her and climbed back onto Kai's bed as though nothing had happened. Kai pushed his tray aside, along with the little table that slid out on an arm from the wall. Tyson snagged the uneaten half of his roll and went to nibbling on it.

Only once everyone else had cleared out did he speak.

"Did you know they might have guns? And don't tell me you didn't."

Kai shrugged and pulled his legs up, despite the smart in his side. He wanted to avoid touching, and he had already been bumped by Max and Hillary more than he cared for.

Tyson swallowed the roll and licked at his teeth as he frowned, navy-black eyes uncharacteristically serious.

"You know I'm grateful—we're grateful for what you did, right? Saving our souls and bit beasts, that's…but you're just awesome sauce like that. But…" his eyebrows went high, like a rising drawbridge to waterworks, and Tyson ducked his gaze behind his fringe. "Do you think we'd feel any better about it if you got yourself killed for us? Dragoon and I would have figured it out on our own eventually. We have before. You know that, don't you?"

Kai thought about just ignoring him, as he often did with the others. But Tyson was one person he never tried to soften the truth from. To do anything less would be pointless to say, as the stubborn idiot wouldn't respond to anything less.

"Grow up, Tyson. Friendship speeches or concentrating on your feel goods wasn't about to save you or Max." He leaned towards the cubby, cursing at the nurse who decided to put his stuff back under the night stand. Tyson grabbed it for him, to which he gave a brief nod of gratitude. His fingertips brushed against the pouch holding the razor attack ring, which none of his friends knew about, or ever would.

"Once more you're missing the point. When are you going to get off your high horse and realize those 'feel goods' aren't just feelings? Friendship and loyalty and honor are real. After all, it wasn't just my gorgeous arm that saved you from that ice on that lake." Tyson flashed him a toothy smile, which Kai didn't quite return. For once, Tyson wilted, then sighed. "Look, Kai…next time you pull something risky like that I'm going to have to beat you to a bloody pulp."

Kai let out an amused 'hmmph.' "I'd like to see you try."

"Oh, I will. Captain or not, you need to learn some serious manners. Well," Tyson shoved off of the bed, adjusting his shirt and putting a finger beneath his nose, a strange habit he got into when he thought he was being 'cool' or 'stylish' in his good-bye. "Before I go off to annoy Hillary some more, what's up between you and Ray?"

Kai shrugged. "Ask him. Now go away."

"Jeeze, grouchy as always."

But Tyson left him be. Perhaps he had grown up in the past years.

Check out took forever, namely because he had to wait for his assigned doctor to check him over and tell him what he already knew about taking care of flesh wounds. It would have only taken him a few minutes, but, as usual, doctors took their sweet time. That, or he had a particularly talkative patient at death's door.

When his latest dose of painkillers started to wear off, Kai had had enough. Ignoring the smarting of his side, he peeled off his IV, got dressed in the clothes Kenny had brought for him, snapped on his beyblade belt, and left. He was already starting to get hungry, which told him it had to be sometime in the afternoon, which irritated him to no end. He hated wasting time.

At the nurse's desk, he asked for his prescription so he could go. Just as she wilted under his glare and started to blubber something about needing a doctor's signature to be released and all that crap, Tyson bowled into his side with his usual grace. Fortunately, it was his uninjured side, but he hissed in pain none the less. He shoved Tyson off with a growl.

"Can you _ever_ act normal?"

"Says the guy who has a perpetual stick up his butt," said Tyson, flashing him his usual winning grin. "You gotta stick around, bud, the show's just about to start!"

Kai sighed and turned back to the bemused nurses. "Forget the pain meds, I'm going."

"But—"

"Hey, home skillet! What you doing up and about? I heard you got owned good!"

Grandpa Granger had appeared right behind Tyson, all whiskery smiles and cheap, out of style slang. He had on his usual polo shirt and cargo shorts, though he also had a handful of paperwork, which he handed back to Tyson as he accepted the release form from the nurse. Seemed Tyson would be leaving the same time as him.

"Little dude, I got enough teenagers in my house—all dudes too. Any sweet young thing would be eat alive."

"Seriously, Gramps? We've been over this! All you have to do is see her."

But his Grandfather had turned his attention over to Kai again, who was caught between the decision to flee or the decision to stick around and get a ride from Gramps (gunshot wounds did hurt, after all, even if it was just a graze).

"We just passed by your crib, K-man. Doc's look'n for you."

Kai groaned. Of course. NOW he decides to show up.

There was a patter of footsteps and then Max launched himself onto Tyson's shoulders.

"Tell me your Gramps said no, Tyson! Because my Dad's rearing to go!"

Tyson shoved him off. "No way! I just sent in Hillary to get her ready, there's no way I can lose!"

"Guys, will you stop wrestling by the desk? You're going to knock stuff over," said a weary Ray, who must have been following Max for he just stepped up. He handed some papers to Grandpa Granger, who signed them, and then handed them to the nurses. As temporary guardian for Ray whenever he was in Japan, Grandpa Granger would be able to sign him out, wouldn't he?

Sometimes Kai wondered if his pride just made everything more difficult than it had to be.

He turned to return to his room. Pain killers were nice, after all, and the powerful kind he could save for a day he really needed them. If not that, they had their uses for other things as well. Not to mention a ride would make it easier overall.

"Gramps, look! There she is!"

Almost as though he couldn't help himself, Kai stopped half-way across the bland, green/white tiled hall and looked where Tyson had pointed his grandfather.

His stomach fell to his feet.

If she had been beautiful dressed in the bland, baggy hospital gown with her hair everywhere, she became unfathomable with her hair pulled back by a big, pink ribbon and dressed in a small, ruffled skirt and girly blue blouse. Somehow it made her more real, more touchable, and that heightened her appeal when it should have already reached its max.

When he realized he had stopped breathing, he forced in a breath. This couldn't be happening to him. He didn't like this girl. No one should have such an effect on him just because of how they looked. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was dangerous.

And yet he had forgotten where he had been going in the first place.

Ayah had her legs pressed tightly together, her hands held tight in front of her, and her eyes averted to the floor. She looked every bit as uncomfortable as Kai felt.

Tyson gave a low whistle. "Dang, you did good, Hill!"

Hillary, who Kai hadn't noticed was standing next to Ayah, grinned toothily and gave Tyson a triumphant two fingers. "Though I didn't do much. I just tied back her hair and got her dressed in some of my spare clothes. They're a bit big on her—"

Whatever she had been going to say after that was blocked out by a great explosion from Tyson's grandpa.

"KAWAII!"

All of the blade breakers winced, and Ayah squeaked in fright. Just as she moved to flee, Grandpa Granger was there snatching up her hands. Hillary backed away, disturbed.

"Say you'll do an old lonely man a service and be my granddaughter, even if only for a short time?"

"Lonely? What happened to having a house full of teenagers?"

 _And what happened to his weirdo slang?_ Thought Kai, who, despite himself, was feeling the urge to laugh as he had also spied Ray's expression, which was just as it had been the night she had appeared to them in Tyson's backyard: half-way to heaven and half-way to screaming.

Max just looked star struck.

Since she couldn't speak yet, Ayah made fish faces and tugged her hands out to give desperate gestures. Kai figured he wasn't needed here and told himself to get going, but he still couldn't quite remember where he had been heading to. It was a hospital, maybe he was heading to the car—wait, pain. Doctor.

He took a few steps and paused again as Tyson said, "Since we don't know who your parents are, I asked my Grandpa to take care of you till you find them. The hospital has this sort of temporary release/guardian thing. You can even consider me your big brother! Please do!"

Grandpa Granger twitched and ran over to the counter, where he grabbed a pen and started scribbling down furiously. Max dodged out of the way and bounced up to her, all pink face and hamster smile.

"Not me, though, I want to be your boyfriend!" he said.

"Whoa, hang on, you can't hit on her before she's even my sister yet! Man rule number three: never date your best friend's sister!"

"Rule doesn't count if she ain't your sister."

"But she's gonna be! Right, Ayah?"

The poor girl looked completely overwhelmed with all that had happened. Her mouth had dropped in its biggest fish expression yet and her eyes had gone impossibly wide. She stared at them each in turn and began to tremble all the way to her big pink bow.

Hillary was in front of her in a second. "Cut it out! Who would want to stay with creeps like you anyways?"

"Aw, that's no fair! Tyson's the one who has porn mags stuffed under his bed," said Max.

"I do not!"

"Oh, what a lie."

"I filled out all my part!" sang Tyson's grandfather as he skipped back over to the little party in the hall that was beginning to attract a lot of attention. He held it out to Ayah, who had yet to move. "Now we just need yours."

Ray seemed to come to with a snap and strode over. "Stop pushing, guys, you haven't even given her a chance to say what she wants."

"Hillary's already explained everything, right?" said Tyson.

Hillary blustered. "Well, yeah, but—"

"I'm going to visit you every day!" crowed Max. "Ayah, what's your favorite treat? I'll buy you ice cream on the way home."

With a grunt of exasperation, Ray pushed Tyson, Max, and Grandpa Granger aside and stuffed a scrap of paper and pen into Ayah's limp hands.

"Here, Ayah, you can tell us what you want with those."

Ayah lifted up the pen and paper as though she had never held such before.

Kai knew what was going to happen the moment Ray handed her the paper and pen, and he had started to move towards her against his better judgment.

She dropped the pen and paper.

And burst into tears.

All of them, including the on looking medical staff, blanched.

Kai had just caught himself from reaching for her (really, that made no sense) when she fell towards Tyson, throwing her arms around his neck. Her raspy voice could just frame out a, "Yes, please," before it dissolved back into her quiet sobs once more.

Hillary's curious look snapped him back to reality. Kai continued walking past her and down the hall to his room, his insides aching as though he had left his organs somewhere behind him. He ignored the drama playing out as he found his room, closed the door tightly, and took a seat at his bed. Only then did he realize his hands had started to shake. He clenched his fists to stop them.

That girl had sucked out his friends' souls—had almost made them worse than death. He hated how everything about her so far just screamed victim. Didn't she know her parents or her own last name? Why had she left it to the rest of them to find out? It was just like what he had said to Ray: she had simply used them as an opportunity to escape. After all, if her voice could do as much as she already had, surely she could have freed her own self. She must be desperate for attention, desperate to be coddled—to watch people fall head over heels at her feet to take care of her like some delicate princess because she was beautiful. For all he knew, she could manipulate the human mind or entrance people with her voice as well. He didn't even know her, so anything could be true.

But just as soon as he wondered about her parents, his mind came up with answers he didn't want to hear. If she did remember her parents, she must fear them more than she feared those who had tried to shock her to death simply because she had been disobedient.

And then the way she had burst into tears and thrown herself on Tyson's neck. It had to be because he told her he was going to be her brother. She had probably been lonely…

He shook himself just as the doctor came in. He seemed a little concerned by the way Kai kept clenching his fists and jaw, but guessed out loud that it must just be the pain and seemed rather shocked to find that Kai had torn out his IV. Guess he couldn't get a dose directly to his blood. It'd have to be pills.

Kai didn't care. He hardly heard him.

When Tyson came in to ask if Kai was coming, Kai just glared at him and told him he would walk home. Both the doctor and Tyson stared.

"I wouldn't advise that—" started the doctor.

But Tyson broke over him. "What's crawled up your ass and died?"

Kai took the prescription from the doctor and walked around Tyson, who, being the stubborn nosey child he was, just stepped back into his path.

"You've been like this since you woke up. Look, I'm sorry you got hurt trying to save us, but that doesn't give you the right to treat your friends like they're scum!"

"I just want to walk home," he grumbled. "Stop being so dramatic."

"Then stop making it so I have to be just to get an answer out of you. Ray said you hated her, is that why you aren't coming? You don't want to be in the same car as her?"

And because the thought that Kai would have to avoid anyone instead of the other way around irritated him so much, Kai gave his grumpiest 'fine' and shoved Tyson out the door with himself. He'd sit in that stupid van with that stupid girl and watch all those stupid people fall apart all over her. It wasn't till he was back out in the hallway and stomping towards them that he realized he was acting like a jealous girl around a love rival.

Ugh. Look what her presence was doing to him now? Like he didn't have more reasons to hate her.

But, just as he opened his mouth to tell them all to get a move on, her eyes met his. The strange, unreadable look from before smoothed the muscles about her mouth till they made a small 'o' of concern. Concern for him?

He snapped and bared his teeth at her. She flinched.

Luckily, he gained control of himself before anyone noticed. Or, so he hoped.

"Alright, kids, to the Granger Mobile!"


	4. Distrust Who Hears Fear

**Sidenote: pre-orders of my next book are up. ^.^**

 **Main note: I desperately hope you enjoy, so don't be creeped.**

3

Kai brooded on a corner of the porch as Ray and Tyson ushered Ayah to the beydish. He didn't approve of this. He didn't approve of it at all.

Ayah still had a mince to her walk, as though unused to showing so much leg (though the skirt was modest compared to what Hillary usually wore), but she seemed to forget a bit about it as Ray and Tyson got ready on either side of the dish.

"Alright, Ayah, when you see a light from the beyblades, look up, okay? Mine should be a tiger."

"And mines the blow-your-socks-off-awesome dragon that will eat Ray's tiger!"

"Up yours, Tyson. Don't go making dishes you can't serve."

"Oh, I'll serve it all right."

Kai groaned. Yes yes, the trash talk before a battle was an ingrained tradition, but did they have to be so lame about it?

As Ray and Tyson readied their beyblades over the dish, Kai covertly turned himself in Ayah's direction. If she even so much as made a peep, he'd be on her. After all, the last time the doctor's said her throat was too injured to speak she had sung back Tyson and Max's souls to their bodies. And since nothing had been in the paper about someone with snapped calves being arrested, he wasn't about to let his guard down, just in case this girl was somehow still in contact with her old captors. The fact that Tyson and Ray had practically tripped over themselves to show her their bitbeasts just because she gave them those big, goo goo eyes when they asked her if she'd even ever seen one sickened Kai. It was that whole naïve friendship mentally of theirs that upheld his theory that they were all in a children's cartoon.

Ayah bounced on her heels in eagerness, the pink bow in her hair bouncing along with her. Kai felt his lips curl.

Tyson settled himself into position. "Let's do this sumo style."

Ray grinned. "Then when our fighting spirits are ready."

They looked into each other's eyes, waiting. It was a way of starting a duel they had come up with among themselves. No count down. No sound. Just an explosion of movement—

And the blades were out, dancing about each other across the well worked grooves of Tyson's beystadium.

There had always been something about his team mates when they battled that never failed to draw his attention, even after all these years. Perhaps it was in the way they held themselves, or the way they focused. Or perhaps it was simply because even now it still startled him to see others smiling and laughing as they bladed. Maybe it was because, even now, he couldn't see how it was a game.

But he returned his attention to the girl with the bouncing bow. The setting summer sun cast their shadows long and tall across the backyard and onto the porch, where they played across Kai's boots.

"What was that, Ray? What happened to your oh-so-awesome speed?"

"What happened to your oh-so-awesome attack? I've been taking notes from Max, unlike you. Drigger!"

A loud chink of metal on metal bit through the air. Tyson cursed, then laughed.

"Take lessons from me next time! Up and out, Dragoon!"

A blue-white blur jumped through the air. Ayah's head tipped back to follow, her lips parting in surprise, then back to the bright smile she had worn ever since Tyson had pulled her across the threshold of the dojo.

A crash, a burst of breeze, and then a spark of blue light lit up from the edge of the stadium. Ray let out a shout and his own blade burst with green light.

Kai strained his ears and stared hard at her mouth for signs of singing, but Ayah had put a hand to it as the ethereal forms of Dragoon and Drigger formed above her, their light blazing against the leftover gold of the sunset.

The tiger and dragon weaved about each other as though carried by the currents of a whirlpool. Their passing ruffled their bladers' dark hair and disturbed the leaves in the trees. Small waves rippled across the pond.

The bit beasts clashed, dancing to and apart from another, echoing each other's battle cries.

And Kai was caught up again in the battle. As usual, the sight of his team's bitbeasts gave him an odd, overpowering calm, as though the earth had fallen still. Here, with them, it was safe. Without thinking, he reached into his pocket to wrap his fingers about Dranzer, which warmed in response.

Then Dragoon swerved out of the circle and dissolved. Tyson's blade tinkled to a stop against the stones. Tyson gaped at it.

"Holy crap, Ray, that's the quickest you've beaten me yet! What were you doing the whole time I was under?"

Ray caught Drigger in his palm with a grin. "Practiced all night with Kai in order to save your sorry hide. Next time don't get sucked up into a ball so easily, okay?"

Kai noted that, at these words, Ayah fell still, and all happiness fled to leave her expression closed and impassive. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he averted his eyes just in time.

"So, Ayah, what you think? Pretty cool, huh?" Tyson puffed out his chest, all but ready for her to launch herself at him. Kai rolled his eyes and slumped back against the wall. He could relax for a bit. Crisis averted.

She answered Tyson with a nod and a smile that paled in comparison to the one she had held before.

Ray noticed this. "You alright?"

She nodded again, more fervently. Then she slipped out the little notepad Grandpa Granger had gotten her to communicate with and handed it to him. Ray read it and nodded, handing it back.

"It's cool. Really. We don't hold anything against you."

Kai barely avoided meeting her eyes again when she looked over at him. Tyson gave a bark of friendly laughter.

"Don't worry about Kai, he's always like that. Grumpy is his middle name! Though, between you and me, I bet he's just shy because you're so cute."

Kai aimed a glare at Tyson that could have cracked glass. The other respectively drew back in apprehension, though Ray just laughed.

"Ten bucks says you have to run laps tomorrow."

"Yeah right, no one's going to be doing laps tomorrow. After all," Tyson grinned. "Tomorrow is the real reason I invited you guys here."

Ray frowned. "Your birthday, right?"

"Yes, and no. Hillary helped me organize it. When you guys see it you're going to love me so much I might have to turn bisexual to satisfy you all."

"That's just gross."

"Hey, now, don't be a hater. You're talking to the man who get's Victoria Secret scented envelopes daily." And the idiot throws his arm about Ayah's shoulders, pulling on the stupid face he thought was a flirtatious smolder. "But I'm not into that, sweets. I'm just wait'n on that special someone."

"Don't even try that," Ray came around and peeled Tyson's arm away as though it were an old smelly banana peel. "She's at sister status now. Besides, aren't you dating Hilary?"

"Wha—pfft—who told you that?"

"Hillary. She said you guys had a date to the movies."

"Exactly. A date. She's still in the interviewee process."

"…Right."

Ayah had pinched her legs back together again and her amused smile looked just a little forced. Rolling his eyes and feeling more disgusted than usual with his teammates, Kai turned to go back inside. He was in dire want for a shower, as he could still smell the hospital on him. If she tried singing out a soul he could always launch his blade from the bathroom window or something.

"Yo, Kai, you up for a battle?"

He debated Tyson's challenge for only a second. "No."

"And that's as eloquent as he gets."

"Birthday boy's going to get laps," said Ray.

"Maybe not the laps you're thinking of."

"Tyson!"

Kai closed the door with a hard snap behind him. He was beginning to miss the Tyson that couldn't tell the difference between girls, boys, and beyblades. Poor girl didn't know what she was in for. He thought this again on spying Tyson's grandpa watching them through the kitchen window with a blissful smile and a cup of tea in his hands.

Kai usually took his showers cold. He had grown up in a country of harsh winters and short summers, and the warmth of Japan often put him off or made him drowsy, which was something he detested. Anything that muddled the mind muddled the senses and made one an easier target. This time, however, he turned up the heat, hoping to dull his thoughts and block out the world for just a bit. All he needed to do was keep his ears sharp anyways.

Fifteen minutes later he was out, the sky had darkened to dull silver, and the noisy sounds of Tyson and his grandfather having a kendo match vibrated the floorboards beneath his feet, meaning he'd have to dodge around them in order to get to his things in the corner of the dojo. Figuring he could brush his hair later, he swiveled on the spot and pointed himself back outside to the now empty yard. Noisy places unnerved him. Anything could reach you in the din. The beating of your own heart could even cease without you hearing it.

But outside it was properly quiet. For not the first time, Kai was grateful Tyson lived in such a quiet neighborhood.

He sat himself against the wall and leaned his head back. Crickets. The hushing of leaves. A distant car horn. A cool brush of a breeze, carrying the scent of cement, grass, and that indefinable cleanness of oncoming night.

The back door opened and closed with a quiet snap. He heard bare feet pad across the floorboards as though hardly there and something like a dish being set next to him. He didn't open his eyes until he heard them sit down and lean against the wall.

Ayah had sat next to him, her legs pulled up to her chest and a cup held atop her knees.

He closed his eyes again. "Go away."

In answer, she pushed the cup she had set next to him against his leg. He could smell chamomile and something sweet.

Never one to discount a peace offering when he saw one, he picked it up without looking and took a careful sip. It wasn't like she'd have to poison him if she meant any ill will anyways. And as long as he kept his eyes closed, her appearance couldn't muddle his thoughts.

There were a few minutes of blessed silence before there came a rustling of paper and her notepad was pressed into his hand. Sighing, he opened his eyes and skimmed over it quickly.

 **If you are up for a jog to get your heart rate up, I could heal your side.**

He ended up having to re-read it just to understand what she had said, not because her words didn't make sense, but because her handwriting was atrocious. He found himself smiling. Of course none of the others would have said anything about it.

"Your handwriting is hideous."

The notebook sped out of his hand, a quick scribble, and was pushed back with a grumpy scowl.

 **And you're afraid of everything.**

Something cold prickled through his blood, giving the sensation of needles beneath his lungs and fingertips. He considered throwing the notebook at her along with the tea, but he would never be so childish. Besides, reacting like that would just prove her right.

And wasn't she right?

Suddenly sick to his stomach, he dropped the notebook, left the tea, and got up to stalk off of the porch. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and went around the house, the cold prickling in his gut slowly giving way to a murderous boiling. He didn't care that he wasn't wearing any shoes. He'd walked barefoot through the snow plenty of times. Bare summer-warmed side-walks would be nothing, and he had Dranzer in his pocket—always on hand—in case anything came up.

He didn't hear her pattering after him until he had walked to the end of Tyson's street. He thought of running, then shook it off. He wasn't about to run away from a mute girl with a big pink bow in her hair. He had his pride—always his pride.

"Stop!" she wheezed—or more like whistled like a sick old dog out of breath.

"Go away," he said. "I'm not into making friends with charity cases who suck out souls for a living."

Her hand caught onto the back of his shirt and he twisted it out of her grip with a growl.

"I said leave me alone!"

And he twisted back to pick up his pace. Her footsteps didn't follow, but he kept on, falling into a run until he finally reached the river side and bridge that Tyson often went to train in private. Not so much out of breath as he was cringing in pain from the smarting wound at his side (that probably had started up bleeding again), he half limped to the cover of the bridge and collapsed in the shadows. Only then did he notice the crumpled lined paper in his pocket. Wiping the sweat from his brow (he really hated Japan's humid summers), he smoothed it out against his knee.

 **I hear your fear—thought it was me—but everything. Why?**

Her sense of hearing was getting annoying. Was there anything she didn't hear? Would none of them be allowed to have any privacy from her? The thought made him chuckle to himself, thinking of what Tyson would make of that with all the weird bodily functions he went through, before he returned back to frowning at that nearly illegible scrawl. She must have written it right before running after him.

"Why what? Why am I afraid?" he sighed, balled it up, and threw it into the river. "What a stupid question."

Because, really, it was. And it also didn't matter what he was afraid of, because, in the end, he never paid any attention to his fears. He would do what he wanted, when he wanted, and no wheezy girl collecting his teammates like ribbons on her fingers would play as his therapist. His past would give her nightmares, as it sometimes did for his teammates, and he was handling it just fine. Great, even. It made him stronger than most—greater than most. Because fear? He didn't even know the meaning of it.

Then why had he just run away from her after he told himself he wouldn't?


	5. Pre-Owned

4

He didn't come back until night. By the time he stumbled in, his ribs were burning up a storm and blood had seeped to his shirt. Since they were use to him vanishing, no one had waited up for him. He would have been disturbed if they had.

The bathroom light hurt. Streetlights had been soft in comparison.

Turning on the water so it could get warm, he stripped off his shirt and took a look at himself in the mirror. The blue paint on his face had started to smudge on the edges, as it always did after he had sweated more than usual.

"Stupid muggy Japan," he muttered in a hiss of Russian. He pulled out a washcloth from the drawer and got to work peeling off the bandages on his torso. Old scabs pulled away with the gauze. "Disgusting." Really, he couldn't see what was so attractive about the human body. She shouldn't look as appealing as she did. She was just a blood bag of flesh and ooze, just like everyone else.

The door creaked. Speak of the devil.

Ayah stood in the doorway wearing a knee-length blue night gown. Her loose hair nearly reached just as far as it did and swathed her shoulders in gentle white-gold curls.

He couldn't help but feel just a little triumphant when her eyes trailed along his bare chest and widened. But whatever satisfaction he had vanished as she closed the door behind her and he found himself alone in a small room with her, with no one else conscious enough to even know they existed.

She slipped the rag from off the counter and ran it under the now steaming water. He tried to glare her away—that worked for most people—but she ignored it and reached out to wipe the blood from his side. He dodged it.

"Pardon?" he growled.

She didn't glare at him. She didn't pout. Nor did she flinch. She just looked at him, as though to stare down a jittery dog.

Being no dog, he yanked the cloth from her hand and set to work on himself, doing his best to hide back the wince as lifting his right arm stretched and aggravated the wound. She shut off the facet then and sighed.

"I want to call you names," she whispered, or rasped. "But I know you're far to use to them and will probably just insult me right back or ignore me."

He snorted. "Stop pretending you know me. Go back to bed."

In response, she poked him in the chest. He slapped at her hand with the bloodied rag.

"Go. A. Way."

"I will if you let me help you." If she kept wheezing like that, her throat would never get better.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be talking. Why do you care anyways?"

"Because I like you, and you're in pain."

That answer stunned him more than it should have. He had given her no reason to like him. In fact, she hadn't even the time to decide whether or not she liked him. Perhaps she was like Tyson in that regards and simply suffered from poor judgment and a naïve trust in strangers.

While he had stood there, shocked, she stole the rag back from him and had stepped about him to reach his side. When her cool fingers wrapped about his bicep and lifted his arm, he started to protest, but chocked on the words as she suddenly ducked her head to his side.

He reflexively recoiled, just to back into the wall. "Aren't you supposed to be mute? Coughing on blood and all that?"

"I don't need my voice that much," she whispered, than took up his arm again, this time keeping eye contact until she ducked down. Her hair against his skin felt just as satin smooth as it had in his dream. Heat boiled up from his stomach, heavy and opening every pore on his body. If he looked down, he'd be able to see her lips puckered up as though for a kiss, just as they had over Ray's fingers.

A familiar hum prickled along his skin. She moved his arm to her shoulder, offering to be a support as she breathed and hummed against his injured side.

He didn't know how long he stood there, fighting the urge to just look down at her. He ended up staring at their reflection in the mirror. It was an odd sight, to be sure, and he couldn't help but notice that if she had bent down any further, her nightgown would have shifted up—don't go there. This was not cool at all. He was not—would not allow himself to be drawn in by a girl just because of her looks and soft hair.

Right when his feet were beginning to prickle from being in one position too long, the humming stopped and she pulled back. Her lips had turned bright red from vibration, but her face had gone nearly as pale as her hair. In the mirror the gash of the gun wound had shrunk by half and pinkened with new, healthier scabs.

"That's best I…" he barely heard before she fell back, catching herself on the counter. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching for her, catching her as her knees gave way.

"Smooth," he said against her bowed head. "What, can you not breathe?"

She gave a little moan that sent tingles all along his spine.

"I gave you…some a my…sound waves are energy…did you know?" She shuddered and he felt her settle in just a little more. The next words that wisped past her lips he couldn't quite make out. Perhaps her vocal chords had given up for good.

Exasperated, confused, and more than a little apprehensive, he figured she wasn't going to walk out of there anytime soon. Even if she had forced herself on him, she had helped. He might as well show a little gratitude.

She must have fallen completely unconscious, for she didn't respond as he scooped his arm beneath her knees and waist and lifted. He underestimated her weight and ended up shooting into a stand. Kenny hadn't been kidding. Hollow bones indeed! This couldn't be healthy.

 _She's not human._ He sucked in that thought and pounded it into the part of him breathing in the cinnamon bun and rose sweetness from her hair and marveling in the softness of her bare legs against his arm. Her lightness gave him the impression of something delicate, and a fierce protectiveness he had only ever felt for his team curled dragon-like into his chest.

No. He decided what he would feel and for whom he would feel it, and it would not be this inhuman…thing. He had to remember her power. She had nearly imprisoned his teammates into a fate worse than death. She could hear their heartbeat, hear their blood, make their vessels burst within their brains. At a single note, she could kill whomever she pleased.

Yet, as his feet found the steps to take her up to her temporary room in the attic, he froze at her little squeak of protest.

"What?" he snapped, though it didn't come out as harsh as he wanted it to.

He had to strain to hear her answer.

"Don't leave me alone."

For the second time that evening, another shock ran through him. He stood there, letting the wave of it crash over him, before he tightened his jaw and turned towards the dojo instead.

"Let me be clear," he said, lowly so as to not wake anyone. "I don't like you. I don't trust you. And if you make so much as a squeak that I think might hurt my teammates, you'll be dead before you even blink. Stop trying to—to cozy up to me or whatever the hell you're doing."

She didn't answer, but he was more or less certain she had heard him.

Still, despite his words, when he opened up the dojo door and stepped around the sleeping (and in Tyson's case), snoring bodies of his teammates, he went to his own futon set on the far side of the dojo and set her down in the sheets. It was a good thing she was so light, as a sudden wave of weariness threatened to tip him over when he leaned down.

She weakly caught his wrist as he pulled away.

"You'll need sleep. Lots. And food. I made your body rush against its nature."

He tugged, but her fingers tightened. Grunting in annoyance, he glared back at her half-lidded eyes. He could just see them in the light of the bathroom from the hallway. The blue was hidden. It was easier for him to think of her as a demon that way.

"Kai," she tugged at him, and with a roll of his eyes he drew nearer so as to hear her wheezing better. He regretted it as the cinnamon bun smell thickened. "None of you have any reason to trust me and every reason to hate me. People hate different. But…" she took a shaky breath. It was a full minute before she spoke again, and this time he could hear the tears warping her words, though her voice had strengthened somewhat. "But Tyson called me sister. Grandpa claimed me his daughter. Ray and Max and Hillary…you have no idea…"

He wanted to tell her to get to the point, but even he had tact. Or did he? Why was he even here still, letting her whisper to him and breathe her sweet smell into his face? When had he ever given a damn about tact?

"Kai Hiwatari, I will die before I try to harm your team. You and your friends own my soul."

"Is that why you stayed in that cage, then? Because they owned you?"

Her face twitched with pain, and for the first time he felt guilty for hurting an enemy.

"No. No, please, they…" she closed her eyes.

"You could have broken out of those bars, couldn't you? Just vibrated them to pieces?"

"No. They were made…of a plastic. Pliable materials don't—" she broke off with a cracking cough. Her light body curled against the attack and he once more found himself moving without thought, pulling out the blankets to tuck around her.

"Enough. Go to sleep."

Even if she had wanted to, she didn't have the chance to stop him a second time, even when he wobbled on standing from the head rush. His head started to throb in a way he knew all too well. Exhaustion and stress would only be tolerated so long by the body, and if what she said about healing him was true, she had just taxed it.

 _See? She isn't so nice,_ he thought scathingly.

That didn't stop his subconscious from dreaming of her once he curled up in Tyson's clean bed.

They went as his dreams usually did at first. Nightmarish, by normal people's standards, but just generic for him. There were stone walls, memories of pain, darkness, and occasionally a familiar Moscow building filled with targets he didn't want to kill, but did anyways. He was running through the old stone train station, weaving through the crowd, his feet only touching the floor enough to remind him that he wasn't flying. Red feathers fluttered past his fingers till he knew his scarf was made of them. Feathers of fire. Dranzer's feathers.

Then he turned a corner, busted through a security personnel door, and aimed his blade.

To find Ayah as his next target.

But instead of screaming or running or, worse of all, treating him with naïve politeness, she spread out her arms and her face lit up with welcome. She was wearing that blue nightgown bought for her by the overexcited Grandpa Granger, and it brought out her eyes till he knew he was looking at fallen pieces of summer sky.

Without remembering dropping his blade or crossing the room, she was against him, soft as comfort, light as a bird, trusting as a child. He could taste her, and it was warm sweet bread.

Some part of him woke up and he pushed her away. They weren't in the train station any more, but somewhere else. Somewhere he didn't remember, but enclosed with stone and broken bits of sky and red feathers. "Wait, I don't know you. You're—you could end everything. Get away from me."

His voice was weak, however, and she just smiled.

The next thing he knew, his surroundings solidified into that dungeon of the Abbey he knew so well. Boris stood at the wall, grinning, spectator to all the weakness Kai displayed by holding her in his arms.

"Worthless. Weak. A waste of blood and space," he said.

Ayah wasn't in his arms anymore. She had a beyblade—one of the dark obsidian slips of things only the elite students were ever given, designed to move faster than the human eye could catch and against every BBA regulation. The ultimate assassin's weapon.

And it was pointed at him.

 **With this update I bring an announcement: my book, "Erase Me," is now PUBLISHED! Check out my profile for more info. ^.^**


	6. To Hear a Soul

5

It just proved how abnormal he was that he took that nightmare to heart as a reminder rather than as the nightmare it was. Or, as most of us would take it, as a warning from our subconscious that maybe we're being paranoid…or perhaps sexually frustrated.

Be that as it may, he was ship shape aloof and cool as ever when he stepped out of the bathroom and into Ayah first thing after brushing his teeth that morning. He had planned to brush her aside and ignore her as he did every pleb, but then he caught a glance of what she was wearing.

Were those Tyson's-?

She slammed the bathroom door in his face.

Just then, Tyson himself walked past, whistling a tune and groaning when he found the door closed.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to use Grandpa's. That man's odor could burn the hair off your chest."

He thought about asking Tyson why Ayah was wearing his jeans and T-shirt (Kai knew it was his because only Tyson would be moronic and arrogant enough to even keep his world champion T-shirt), but then he figured that he didn't care to know. The less he had to do with her, the better.

Then he noticed the next strange thing about that morning.

"What are you doing up, Tyson?" The sloth would sleep until three in the afternoon if anyone would let him—namely Hillary.

Tyson gave him an odd look. "It's noon. Where've you been?"

That made him pause. But not too much. If it hadn't been for the clouds he might have guessed the time by the sun, but, once more, Japan's bloody monsoon season had rolled in. Rain rain everywhere, which suited him just fine. It was better than that blasted heat.

"Oh, before you go, gotta tell you about my birthday surprise."

Kai inwardly groaned, but stayed put. Tyson flashed his most triumphant smile, as though about to tell him he had rented a strip joint just for the team…please say he didn't.

"Hillary helped me set it up—" okay, that was a good sign. "I took the liberty of dipping into our winnings savings and, with some birthday money from the Majestics, have rent the Tokyo beystadium for the evening for our own personal tournament! I've invited everyone we know—though, whether they come or not, we'll just have to see—but to help pay for it there was a limited ticket sale and locals can join the tournament for a fee and fight the best and—"

"Just how much of this did you do?" Kai asked.

"Uh, well, I made up the food menu and got everyone's email address—put up some posters."

"You know that money was for beyblade updates, right?"

Tyson gave him what the others termed as his 'manly pout.' "Jeeze, Kai, can't you just act excited for once? It's going to be us and who knows how many friends just duking it out. No titles, no show biz, just pure unadulterated blading and a crowd of adoring fans. It's going to be sweet!"

"And you're telling me because…?"

"Oh! Yeah. Make sure you're there by five, or you'll be declared an automatic loser and I'll make a youtube video of it and post it up onto the BBA website."

Kai wanted to face palm. Tyson hadn't even bothered to ask if he had wanted to participate or not. But, then again, this was pretty much the story of their relationship: Tyson dragging him along to things he didn't want to do just for Kai to find himself enjoying it…not that he'd ever tell Tyson that. And not that Tyson would ever have to ask. He just knew. That, or he didn't care.

Sometimes—okay, more like all the time, Kai wondered why Tyson even liked him. He wasn't exactly friend material.

He meandered down to the kitchen to find himself a generic breakfast of leftover rice and fried eggs, topped off with his favorite lemon earl tea. Today didn't feel like a coffee sort of day, even though he caught himself yawning. He figured he could take a run to loosen himself up (since apparently there was to be an impromptu tournament now), followed by a bit of light training. He had been to Tyson's so often, he had favorite haunts already set in mind when he came around the corner to find Tyson, Max, and Grandpa Granger huddled practically on top of each other by the shoe rack with their ears pressed to the door. The strange sight woke him from his thoughts enough to register that someone was singing. Somebody male.

They didn't sound too bad, but it only took a second for him to recognize the almost nasally twang of traditional Chinese tunes and the somewhat discordant notes that often clashed with the Western ideal. If that wasn't enough to tell who that was, Max caught his eye and mouthed "Ray" as though he was listening to an easily frightened goat singing rather than his friend.

Ignoring the human eaves drop tower, he sat down and got to tying on his shoes. He had never heard Ray sing, let alone heard of him doing it. By the way the others were behaving, they hadn't either.

Ray's song came to an end as he finished the laces on his last steel-toe boot.

"Wha—what's the smile for?" asked Ray.

"Oh man, I can practically hear him blushing," muttered Tyson.

Max elbowed him in the ribs and shushed him. Kai rolled his eyes, but he too couldn't help but wait. Unlike the others, though, he didn't need to press his ear up to the door. Dojo doors weren't that thick to begin with.

When Ray started talking again in answer to apparently no one, Kai knew who he was with, and who he had been singing for. For some reason, that irritated him.

"You got all that from just my voice?" said Ray. "That's incredible! The fact you can even get all that from what you hear…you're really intelligent, you know that?"

Tyson wasn't the only one with a face puffed up from withheld snickers. All three of them chortled beneath their breath like a bad rendition of the three stooges. The irritation in Kai's gut had turned to something acidic and he wanted nothing better than to get out of there and on his run. However, he lingered, his fingers lax on his shoes, listening.

He thought he could hear the rustle of paper. Of course she'd be writing. Why did he wish he could see what she said to him?

"You're sure you want to hear me again? I'm no Mozart, and your handwriting isn't everything, you know."

Tyson suddenly jerked out, sending grandfather and Max to the floor like a falling Janga tower, and jumped to the door.

"Me! Me!" He threw open the door and jumped out onto the porch. "I want to get a singing-palm-reading-thingy!"

And without much ado or thought to what he might be rudely interrupting, Tyson started to sing.

Max, grandpa, and Ray gave unison cries of alarm as what could have been a cow's dying belt coming out of Tyson's throat. Even Kai cringed and slapped his hands over his ears. He should have gone when he had the chance.

Disgusted and more irritated than ever, it was Kai who stepped outside to slap a hand over Tyson's mouth. Tyson squirmed until he realized Kai also had one of his wrists yanked behind his back, ready to pull should he protest. Sitting on the porch, much as he imagined them to be, was Ray and the boyishly dressed Ayah, her notepad in his lap. Ray looked at Ayah apprehensively, who had her expression hidden beneath the rim of Tyson's stolen baseball cap.

"Way to go, Tyson, you probably broke her ears," said Max.

"Little D was dissed from music classes," said Grandpa, frowning. "And soon gonna be kicked to the road, yo, I thought I told you to never open that hole again!"

Ayah finally lifted up her head then, only to throw it back in breathless, wheezing laughter. Tears had already started to leak from her eyes, which told Kai she had started laughing long before they had noticed. She laughed so hard she fell onto her back.

Figuring the danger had pass, Kai relinquished his hold on an indignant Tyson.

"You could have just told me to stop," he said, pushing Kai away. "Why do you always have to manhandle me?"

"I don't think you would have heard him, you were so loud," said Max with a snicker.

Ayah curled onto her side, struggling to breathe, her broken throat still peeling out laughter. With a few careful breaths, she sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked between Ray and Max, both of which were mocking Tyson about his vocal skills. Kai couldn't help but notice that Ray seemed more than a little disappointed at the interruption of his alone time with Ayah. She scribbled down something and handed the notebook to Tyson, who squinted at the chicken scratches. Then his eyes went wide.

"Dude, Ray wasn't joking. You are incredible."

Ray made a squawking, sputtering noise. "Just how long were you listening?"

"Long enough to hear your dulcet tones."

"Let me see!" Max swiped the notebook from Tyson. He seemed to have a more difficult time reading it, but laughed at what he saw. "That's Tyson all right! What she write about you, Ray?"

"Don't—"

But Max had already turned the page, flanked on either side by Grandpa and Tyson. Kai watched Ray's face redden.

"Dang, that's deep," said Tyson, glancing at Ray. "You really want kids that bad?"

Kai had had enough. Stepping forward, he jerked the notebook out of his hand and tossed it onto Ayah's lap.

"If you're done humiliating your teammate like children," he growled. "Twenty lunging laps around the dojo."

Tyson, who had been about to argue, blanched. "What!? Just me?"

"You and Max. I thought we had a tournament to prepare for, or do you think I'd just let you all humiliate me in front of our opponents? If you're not off by the time I count to thirty, we'll make it twenty five."

Max, who had looked just as aghast as Tyson, gulped and ran into the house for his shoes. Tyson, however, clenched his fists and stood his ground.

"It's my birthday!"

"And you're being an immature child," said Kai, leveling his stare in that way he knew his team couldn't deny, not even Tyson. "You've got twenty seconds."

There was much grumblings and gnashing of teeth, but by the time he reached thirty Tyson was right next to Max in front of him, pulling off his jacket and tugging on the last heel of his sneakers.

"What about Ray?"

"Oh, don't worry. He'll be right after you."

Ray gaped at him. "What did I do?"

"Didn't I just say something about a tournament? You can thank Tyson for it. You get fifteen laps."

It was a testament to him that, even with their complaining, all three boys were eventually lined up and jogging about the dojo, doing a lunge every third step. They wouldn't have listened to him—hell, no one would have listened to him if they didn't have a load of a reason to. Kai didn't take his team's respect for him as team captain lightly. Not in the least. It was the reason he would never let them see him weak. They trusted him that much, especially Tyson.

Somehow, remembering that bothered him, even as he set off after them. He never asked them to do what he wasn't willing too do as well. Perhaps that was also part of the reason they listened to him. But, somehow, at that particular moment, he didn't feel like he deserved that respect. Was it because he had decided this last minute training for his team as a rebuttal against himself for finding satisfaction in Ray's humiliation?

When Grandpa Granger went inside, saying something about Kendo practice, Ayah got up and lightly jogged alongside them, though she stopped quickly. Perhaps those hollow bones of her did make things like running uncomfortable. If they weren't by a disease, then what purpose could they possibly have?

After laps, Kai moved them through their usual basics—at least, what they had done the last time they had worked on a team. It became a series of familiar motions for them, and it didn't take too long before the others moved into the next exercise before he had even said a word.

Ayah watched the whole process, still and quiet. It reminded him of her words from the night before: how she would die before she harmed them; how her soul was theirs.

They found themselves falling into their launching positions before Max and Ray realized they had left their blades inside. A little alarm went off in Kai.

"Keep your blades on you at all times," he said. "Even at home."

They gave him mirroring strange looks.

"Relax," said Ray with an uneasy smile. "We're at Tyson's. It isn't like anyone's going to steal our blades while we're here."

 _Who said anything about stealing?_ But he caught himself. He could be unhealthily paranoid, but that didn't mean his team had to be. It wasn't fair to them. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. But, then, if anyone came for retribution, it would be him they'd targeted. Then again, he had hidden his identity when he had attacked the mansion.

"Just to be safe," he said. "Let's practice on our own from here on out. You can end when you're ready. Don't tire yourselves out."

He turned to find Ayah behind him, holding up a small stack of hand towels. He felt momentarily unsettled that he hadn't heard or noticed her leaving the porch, but then he told himself that with hearing like hers, moving quietly mustn't be that big of a deal. Just one more reason to be on his guard around her.

She offered him a towel, and he took it with a brief nod. His teammates were much louder in their approval and gratitude.

"Could you hear me sing?" asked Max. "I want to see what you get!"

"Watch out, Maxie. She might dig up dark secrets of yourself you didn't want to know," said Tyson in his ghost story voice, which he was ridiculously proud of.

"What? Like your 'overwhelming hunger?'"

"I believe it was _'an overwhelming hunger for life_ ,' and you better hope it's at least half as good as mine."

"What about you, Kai?" asked Ray. "Ayah doesn't seem to mind so much."

Kai slung his towel over his shoulder and pulled out his launcher and blade. "I don't sing."

"Oh, come on," said Max. "You can't be as bad as Tyson."

Ray snorted. "Anyone next to Tyson would be an idol."

"Oy! I got feelings too, you know!" cried Tyson.

"That reminds me." Ray tipped a polite, but triumphant grin towards the dragon. "You owe me ten bucks, Tyson. You had to run laps, just as I predicted."

"Are you serious?"

Kai pushed in his ripcord, debating going to the river for this particular segment. "Let me rephrase myself: I will not sing. Max, Ray, what happened to getting your blades?"

The two gave noises of disappointment and ran into the house, followed by Tyson who said he wanted to grab a snack. That left him with nothing to distract him from Ayah's presence behind him.

He almost expected it when the corner of the notebook nudged against his elbow. He pulled it up to his face, more to get her out of the way than an interest in what she said.

 **You would sound very nice. I can tell.**

He snorted and passed it back to her. That was news to him. He had never sung in his life, nor did he have any intentions to try and figure it out. His life wasn't some cheesy musical. It was cut and dry. Besides, singing was for children, thespians, and the drunk, which was why Max didn't get his chance to be musically inclined until after Kai had beaten his blade and everyone else's into the dirt.


	7. Cheap Birthday Tournament

**Please enjoy, and if you have a moment, let me know what you think. ^.^ I usually try to stay out of the way in concerns to this series of stories because they're so different compared to what I usually write, so that's why I don't often have author's notes. So...yeah...**

6

Kai remembered the names and faces of their old 'friends' out of trained habit, not out of interest. While Tyson could go around making friends with every person he battled, Kai did not. It was like pulling teeth to get him to even admit he had any friends, especially to himself.

Nevertheless, he did experience some level of satisfaction at seeing old faces. The European class team, the Majestics, all of which were filthy rich, had shared the brunt of the expenses in this endeavor of Tyson's and Hilary's. It didn't take a genius to see why once Kai got a look at the lines of people outside the stadium as they walked through the familiar side door to the locker rooms, before which they had met said old faces.

"Can you believe it? People will pay out the nose to get a one way ticket to a battle with the champions," said Enrique, flicking the tip of his nose with a thumb and giving his most charming Italian smile. "My Dad's going to have kittens when he sees how much I earn off of this."

"It's good to see you guys," said the questionably flamboyant French Oliver—seriously, come on, the guy's bitbeast is a unicorn. "Enrique's taking my share. I just want to see your faces when I beat each and every one of you."

"Where's Hillary?" asked Tyson.

"Up at the front checking everyone in. We've had to take a few volunteers to take tickets, but she's filling in the tournament sheet as we speak. She has something up her sleeve, because she won't let anyone see it."

Tyson clicked his tongue against his teeth. "That's my girl. Have you guys seen how many teams made it?"

Just about then, Johnny, Enrique, and Oliver noticed Ayah half hidden behind Max and Ray.

"Who's that?" asked Enrique, the smolder already turning on.

"Only participating bladers allowed," Oliver almost whined. "Come on, guys, we agreed on this."

"You can make an exception for my new little sister, can't you? She's afraid of crowds." And to Kai's and apparently Ray's displeasure, he tugged out Ayah from her hiding spot. Hillary had managed to persuade the girl out of her stolen boy clothes and into the little skirt and blouse, though Tyson had whined Hillary down into letting Ayah keep his hat. Kai wouldn't have known why she had stolen Tyson's clothes in the first place if Hillary hadn't come and told them off for making Ayah feel like she had to hide her appearance in order to be treated normally.

Watching the European's teams reactions, he didn't blame Ayah at all. For the first time he regretted stealing and throwing away her old, gray hoodie.

All of the Majestic's eyes zoomed in on her, even the stoic Robert Enrique's smolder turned to full power, Oliver wilted into a happy daze (perhaps he wasn't gay), Johnny's jaw dropped as though hit be an anvil, and Robert's folded arms dropped.

Besides Kai, Ray groaned.

"My lord," breathed Robert.

"You're beautiful!" cried Oliver. "You've got to let me paint your portrait sometime, please!"

"Oh, back off guys, there's no way this girl could be Tyson's sister, I mean…come on," said Johnny.

Ray and Max covertly tugged the clearly uncomfortable Ayah from Tyson's grasp and back behind them. Tyson looked as though to protest, then thought better of it as he met the flabbergasted Majestics.

"Like I said, she's terrified of crowds. We can make an exception, right? I mean, it is my birthday."

"Ah yes, your get out of jail free card," grumbled Robert. "Fine, but find something useful for her to do like cleaning the lockers afterwards. It's part of our contract to not leave anything behind."

"How about that, Ayah? You cool with that?"

"So this Bellezas name is Ayah?" One minute Enrique was leaning against the wall, the next he had somehow magically appeared behind Ray to re-pull out the evasive Ayah. "A pleasure, bella dama. I'll be right there to help you clean. Perhaps afterwards we could…get a drink."

"Back off," Ray stepped between them. "Aren't you too young to drink?"

Enrique raised his eyebrow at the tiger and straightened. Sensing a fight in the works, Kai was about to step forward, but Robert did it for him.

"We should get started. We got until the audience seats themselves to be ready."

"Right there, buddy," crowed Tyson. "We did promise them quality entertainment after all! Guess I'll be seeing you! We're in room one, right? Since we're, you know, the number one world champions."

Max groaned behind him. The Majestics just gave tense smiles.

"Six, actually," said Robert. "I'm sure you know the rest."

And they had, as Hillary had made sure to grill them on the time before leaving. Kai was beginning to wonder what Hillary saw in Tyson. She worked so hard for this lazy ass. Perhaps she had a pending investment in this tournament as well. Kai found that thought amusing, as he had always seen Hillary becoming quite the business woman.

They found their locker room and entered with Tyson singing 'happy birthday to me' in his god awful voice. Max had thrown himself over Tyson's shoulders in a mocking attempt to choke off his words when Kenny's voice broke them off.

"Took you guys long enough to get here."

Kenny sat in the corner with the plugs, table, and industrial green sofas. Dizzy was open and plugged in, and beyblade parts were scattered about him. He wore his usual tie and button up shirt and jeans, and his glasses reflected the LED lights of the locker room.

"Chief!" Tyson bounced over. "You got my birthday upgrades?"

"Of course, Tyson, you only called me about them six times today. I had to silence my phone because of you."

"Aw, it couldn't've been six times. I swear it was only twice."

" _Actually it was seven and a half,"_ buzzed Dizzy. " _He hung up before it could pick up to voicemail once."_

Ayah perked up from around Max. As Tyson crowded around Kenny and the others found their lockers, Kai watched Ayah out of the corner of his eye slip to Kenny's computer and poke it. Since Tyson and Kenny seemed too wrapped up in unscrewing Dragoon apart to install the new weight disk, she shyly turned the laptop around and jumped when Dizzy spoke to her. Within minutes the girl was listening avidly to the computer bitbeast and typing in her answers.

"I don't like this."

Kai turned his attention to Ray, who was hanging up his spare shirt and launchers.

"That's sounds wonderfully vague," chirped Max. "But I know you're talking about pretty Ayah and how the Majestics just flopped at her feet. Dude, I've never seen that kind of reaction to a girl before!"

"Probably because she's inhuman."

He could feel Max's and Ray's stare on him as he slipped off his shirt to pull on one of his traditional, form fitting sleeveless tops. It was a personal rule for him to avoid as much loose fabric as possible while blading. Even a little bit of friction could cost him the fraction of speed that could lose or win a battle.

"Hey! Your side's looking a lot better!" said Max.

Ray was in no such kind mood. "What do you mean 'not human'? She can _hear_ you."

"Even if she wasn't in the room, she'd hear us." Kai adjusted the belt, making sure to keep the assassin's attack ring hidden in the back of his blade pouch.

"But you just don't—we don't know anything yet. But I don't think we should just set her up to be gawked at by whoever."

Max threw up a hand and shook his head. "I agree. That wasn't fair of Tyson, but I don't think he was trying to be mean. They had a point. We did agree only team members in the locker rooms."

"Then for future referenced, let's do our best to keep her out of sight."

Kai had to let out a sardonic bark of laughter at this. "My, quite the sheik you're becoming. What's next, going to buy her a balaclava?"

As Ray and Max registered what Kai had said, he closed his door and walked out of the locker room. He wasn't needed for any team planning or pep talks. The tournament rules were to be announced at the beginning anyways, so any decisions they made in order could be thrown out the door.

But mostly he just needed air.

The hall buzzed with teams. They all paused to drop a greeting to him, but continued on once they realized he wasn't interested in chatting. Mariam from the Saint Shields just laughed.

"Good to see you're the same as usual."

"He could at least say hi back," said a girl he didn't recognize.

"But that's his appeal," sighed Salima.

He quickened his pace. Air. He needed air.

A ramp slopped up to the stadium. He started to climb it, but was stopped by what had to be a volunteer working with Hillary.

"Hillary-sama doesn't want anyone up there until show time—hey!"

Kai stepped around the girl. He wasn't being paid to do this. It was a tournament for Tyson's birthday and for the Majestic's wallets.

But out on the flat of the stadium, there was no one. He took a deep breath of the people free air, even as crowds filed in to their seats. They were far away from him, and that was enough. Finding the nook in which housed the waiting team as their player battled, he leaned himself into the darkest corner he could find and just breathed. If he closed his eyes he could picture the vast expanse of the Russian tundra, cold, and so quiet you could hear the distant mountains sigh.

After a careful minute of this meditation, the tension in his stomach finally relaxed. He shouldn't have been so rude to Ray. Out of all of his teammates, he was the one he got along best with, and he didn't want to go and ruin that. But the guy was being ridiculous. Being in love with a girl didn't suddenly make her a victim to the public eye. She could take care of herself—

That gave him pause. Didn't he hate her because he believed she moved the others to bend over back for her? Because she wanted to be a victim? And yet, at the same time, she had the ability to sing death to whoever heard it just by listening to the vibrations of another's blood…or could she?

He remembered what she had said about the plastic cage. So there were certain things she couldn't affect the vibrations of. Still, soul sucking was still a viable option, and being gawked at never hurt anyone. Ray really had been stupid.

All too soon, his space was being invaded by a peeved Hillary. A premature line had begun to form between her eyebrows a year or so back, and it was deeper than ever as she hooked her fists onto her hips.

"Kai Hiwatari, I thought I made it plenty clear that I don't want anyone out here until we announce the team names. Do you have any idea how much organization is needed with this many people involved? Look, you're getting people all riled up before we've even started!"

Her flung out arm drew his attention to the goggling faces of a few girls hanging over the wall that separated the stands from the stadium. They shrieked on being noticed and started flailing about like startled chickens.

He stayed put. "I'll leave in a minute."

"No, you'll leave right now, and don't try your death glare on me. Four years and it doesn't work."

She still flinched when he gave it to her.

"Aw, relax Hil. You know he doesn't like crowds."

Atop the short steps that lead into the team pit was Tyson, grinning and waving at the flailing-chicken-girls as he spoke. Hillary's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Gawd, do you have to be so spoiled Tyson? If you're both out here—"

"Hillary, I said relax. Kai gets anxious around crowds and if you don't want half your participants dead, just leave him. I'll even sit out here and make sure no one else follows or he doesn't get jumped by fan girls. Don't you have enough to do in the stands?" As he spoke he stepped down into the pit to her side. Then, smiling, he rubbed the pad of his thumb in-between her eyebrows. "Can't let all the boys see that grumpy line. Go on. I promise I'll take care of it here."

Hillary wavered beneath that simple touch. Kai inwardly rolled his eyes. Were all females so simple?

She sighed, wilting. "Fine. But I'm kicking you till you cry if I see anyone else trying to sneak out before start time, and you know I mean it."

Tyson threw up his hands defensively. "Yes'm! Much pain and gnashing of teeth I will be!"

With one last pointed glare, she turned on her heel and marched out of the pit. Kai didn't close his eyes until he was sure she wasn't about to head back.

Tyson's jeans rustled as he sat down on the bench. In the years that had passed between them, Tyson had somehow managed to leave the quiet between them whenever they found themselves alone. He made the kind of quick intake that always proceeded a question, though. Kai steeled himself for whatever stupidity, or surprising depth, his friend had in store. He was probably about to ask about Ray.

"So, Kenny's afraid of you."

He hadn't been expecting that. He grunted to show he had heard, but didn't see why it needed a reply. Kenny was a coward at the best of times and had always been easily intimidated by Kai.

"Like…legitimately afraid of you. He, um, said you crippled like a dozen people for life the night you got our souls back. He did some googling or something. Almost killed, really, he was going on about blood loss and how one went into shock and…look, I'll dance naked in the street before I ever get afraid of you, Kai, but…is there any truth to that?"

And knowing Tyson, if he wanted to know, he would nag and dig until he got himself into serious trouble. If there was anyone Kai trusted to know, however, it was Tyson. The guy had happily made besties out of a psychopath and an android.

"Dozen is a bit much," he said.

"Dude…" Tyson seemed at a loss for words for a minute before asking, "How did you do that?"

"You've seen your own blade tear apart a building and you're asking me how I sliced a few Achilles?" Kai snorted. "You're idiocy never ceases to surprise me."

"You know what I mean. Those people had _guns_. No one has guns—no country is even allowed to make them, and yet you managed to focus—how are you still alive?"

Kai sighed. "Tyson, you already know."

"Well, treat me like the idiot I am, then, because I'm kind of freaking out here, because Kai…Kai you almost killed someone."

A little chill ran through him, but that was all. It was only the fact that Tyson had said those words that they had had any affect. Boris would have been ashamed. Six down and not a single dead. He'd get a week in that dark, high ceiling dungeon of stone deep underground that he dreamed about every night.

The lights on the stadium suddenly turned off. The crowd roared as Hillary's voice crackled over the speakers.

" _Are you guys ready to let it rip!"_

The sound was deafening, and yet Kai could still hear Tyson waiting.

Thus, when the din died down enough to speak, he pushed off from the wall and sat down heavily next to him.

"Do you honestly think a place like the Abbey would exist to make sports players?"

He knew when Tyson shivered that he had confirmed whatever the Chief had told him.

He also knew the question Tyson wanted to ask. It hung in the air between them: _have you killed before_?

Instead, he said, "That was a little extreme of you either way, but it would have been cool to see. Did you go all, like, Assassin's Creed on them?"

To anyone else who had said this, he would have punched them. But, since it was Tyson, and only Tyson, he smiled, although it wasn't a happy one.

"Kenny has good reason to be afraid of me. I'm meant to be scary."

Without warning, Tyson crossed the unspoken but respected line of distance that Kai kept between him and any other human body and threw his arm around his shoulders.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You're talking about the kid who still sleeps with a night light at sixteen."

"Tyson—"

"I'm serious." And the dragon leveled his look with Kai's. The unspeakable something, a power which Kai had learned long ago to respect, rose up like a great gale behind Tyson's eyes. "The only thing I was worried about was what you'd do to yourself if you heard about Kenny before I could get to you. Those Abbey assholes sucked the kid right out of you and tried to make you into a monster, but they didn't, because no one controls Kai, no one tells Kai what to do. It's why you're such a pain in the ass, and you remember that. You saved our lives, as I knew you would. Why else do you think I'd actually run freaking laps on my birthday just because an arrogant jerk told me to?"

Kai wanted to recoil from the contact. He wanted to clam up tighter than ever and say the words that would push Tyson back with blades of ice. This wasn't safe. This wasn't his territory. It was _weak_ and pathetic and embarrassing and overemotional…

And it was what made Tyson and the rest of the Bladebreakers so much better than him. It was what made them stronger. Kai knew this. He, after all, didn't lie to himself and knew exactly what he was. It's what made him so proud.

So he met Tyson's eye head on and didn't budge. He would be strong. He would be in control.

Tyson's serious expression cracked into a broad smile. "There's my grouchy captain. Now, let's find Ray and Max before Hillary calls our names. We got a birthday show to do."

 **. *self-conscious* if you get a chance to read my book, "Erase Me" or even "Out of Duat," please leave a review. It will help others to find them.**


	8. Ghost Blade

7

One by one, Hillary called out the teams in her 'show voice'. In order to save money, no one had hired any professional techies on the spot lights, so each team just had to walk through the darkness to where the light was being shined at the edges of the stadium. Tyson did his regular tom foolery waving to his adoring fans and blabbering back love as though they could hear him above their own roars. Kai just kept his eyes ahead. He didn't like the spotlight.

Through the light, in the reserved lines of seats for the waiting teams, Kai thought he could make out Ayah hovering over Kenny, or rather, his laptop. She had fallen in love with Dizzy on sight and had been quite reluctant to give her back up to him. It was the first time any of them had seen Ayah attempt to use her looks to her advantage, and the only reason Kenny had ever seen Dizzy again was because Kai had snatched it out of her grip in disgust and thrown it back to the Chief with a sharp command to her to stop causing trouble for the team. Max and Ray had almost turned to laptop-stealing putty when she pouted at this, but since she appeared to be more guilty than disappointed, the trouble ended there.

Nevertheless, he doubted Kenny would get as much footage of the matches as he'd like.

Once all the teams were lined up, Hillary, standing in the referee's booth, garnered the crowd's attention.

"Alright, since we have a short amount of time and loads of teams, this tournament is going to be a little different. First off, each team will get one match each. Secondly, all four members of each team will be playing at once—you heard me, people, that's eight beyblades in one dish! Just for the occasion, our amazing sponsors have provided us this extra large beydish!" She waited, arm raised towards the mechanical doors in the center of the stadium. When nothing happened, her excited façade fell. She sighed. "Danny, the doors. You said you could do this." The electric motors kicked into gear and the crowd gave an approving roar as the split opened in the middle. "And here we have it!"

Hillary hadn't been kidding. The beydish was huge, though not as big as Kai had been expecting. Most of the size went into the eight players' platforms around the dish, one half blue and the other half red.

"So our selection would be completely random," continued Hillary, all sweetness now, "I wrote down all the names of the teams on pieces of paper and had an assistant pick them out of a hat blindfolded. Oh! But that reminds me, there's one more rule that's different from the usual BBA standards." She smiled down at the ten teams assembled. "Since today is Tyson's birthday, whoever kicks him out of the dish—and I mean completely outside of the dish—automatically moves his team on to the next round."

"What!" shrieked Tyson, eliciting a low rumble of laughter from the audience. He seemed to find himself again, however, as he gathered himself up in his usual confident stance. "Bring it on, then, I can take on all of you."

"Some birthday present," muttered Max with a good natured smiled, giving Tyson a playful shoved.

"No kidding," echoed Ray, the only one looking appropriately chagrin. "That makes our game all the harder. We're going to have to spend our entire time protecting Tyson rather than beating the other team out. She's automatically put us on the defense."

"Or on the chase," said Kai, who wanted to throw something at her. Like Tyson would just stay put and let them protect him. He'd be all over the dish getting himself into trouble, and given he often was the fastest player of the team, poor Max, their real shield, would be hard pressed to do any shielding.

"Alright, Danny, if you could bring down the screen thingy so we can see who's up first!"

From the ceiling rolled out the white projector screen. The projector at first was overpowered by the spotlights, and Hillary had to do some grumbling into the microphone at Danny to dim the spotlights so everyone could see the print out chart that had the teams' names written into the slots.

"First up will be the famous Saint Shields and the Ghost Blades, one of our local teams, so they're a bit new to the scene. If you two could be quick, we got a lot of battles and little time. The rest of you lot, up to your reserved seats! You got five minutes before the battle begins."

The Saint Shields and the Ghost Blades (an oddly normal looking group with nothing 'ghostly' about them) had a short scuffle over who would be on the red side and who would be on the blue. By the time the Bladebreakers had managed to get to their seats next to Ayah and Kenny, a rather official looking older man had taken the referee's platform. A small microphone curled about his face to the rabbit-like mouth made by his drooping mustache and bottom lip.

"Testing," rumbled his voice. "Will all players raise their launchers into the air when ready."

Hillary had vanished somewhere, though Kai saw her reappear seconds later in the announcer's booth behind the screen that still displayed the handmade tournament paper. Kai had to admit, they sure did a good job at making this tournament look unofficial. And cheap.

"Ayah, please," whined Kenny.

Kai glanced across Ray. Ayah must have sensed his gaze, however, for she quickly pushed the laptop back into Kenny's hands and stuffed her own into her lap. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of two of the boys of the (kkkk) team trying to catch a better look of her. Ray looked to have noticed as well by the fisting of his hands in the folds of his arms.

At the demure referee's "Let it rip," eight blades exploded into the giant dish, where they became a mess of spaghetti-like blurs. Kai didn't know what he had been expecting from the Ghost Team, but he was mildly surprise to find them holding their own—at least for the first thirty seconds.

Just as Hillary managed to get the large screens displaying the match for the fans further back to see, it was already over. Or, at least, it seemed it would be.

"Wow, we already got three blades out of the dish!" said Hillary. "From what the tech can tell, they're all from the Ghost Team. But where then is the fourth?"

Everyone started looking about the stadium, then counted the spinning tops within. But there were only four.

Then Kai noticed the only people who weren't looking for the fourth blade. They were the Ghost Team, who had all their attention in the bowl, wearing mirroring smiles of triumphant.

Suddenly, Mariam's blade shot out of the dish.

"What the—" she cried.

"And Mariam's out!" said Hillary. "But by what? Wait, I think—yes! It's the fourth Ghost Team blade! But wait, there it goes again—what's going on?"

" _It's an easy trick, really,"_ said Dizzy. " _They painted the parts of their fourth blade with a light absorbing coat. Then, with speed enhancing bearings out the whazoo, it becomes nearly invisible. The only time you would even see it is when it impacts another blade, which forces it to slow down a tiny fraction."_

Kenny and the others made all the appropriate 'ahh' noise. "Then why didn't they make all their blades like that?"

"Because it isn't full proof," said Ray, who had his eyes tied to the scene. "The others were just a distraction. Oh, there goes Dunga. Wow, that thing must have a serious attack ring on it."

" _Nothing but attack, actually,_ " said Dizzy, who had brought up a scan of the said beyblade. " _Wow, this is the next all to nothing blade I've seen since that lady's tank, the one who tried to steal your bitbeasts with Ayah. Its defense is non-existent. One hit and this blade is history."_

"No wonder they needed a distraction," said Tyson, who then gave a wide smirk. "But those Ghosties distractions were hit out of the ring. It's just about time before—yep."

The ghost blade flickered into plain sight, twisting and twining above the stadium. The crowd gasped as it fell back down to the dish, where it splattered like glass. Kai's teammates winced.

"And that's what happens when you have an unbalanced blade," said Kenny.

"Hey, why are you looking at me?" asked Tyson.

"Because you're always the one whining about wanting more attack and not caring about defense. Without me, Dragoon would have ended up like that Ghost long ago."

"Jeeze, no need to tell me that, Chief. I know I wouldn't have gotten anywhere with you. Honest!"

" _Think we should go up and help the technically challenged Hillary up in her booth?"_ buzzed Dizzy.

Ayah made noodle-like arms of protest as though to stop Kenny as he folded up Dizzy and started to pick his way out of the stands. When she pouted once more and Ray made a sort of involuntary, strangled noise beneath his breath, Kai rolled his eyes. Honestly. The guy was making it so hard to respect him anymore.

"Well, that was exciting for a first match!" said Hillary. The handmade chart reappeared on the screen, along with someone's hand that scratched out the losing team and wrote in the Saint Shields into a little bubble on the next row.

Kai snorted. He was finding their ways of cutting corners incredibly amusing, as well as refreshing. It was more honest this way, though it also explained why only half of the stadium's seats had been filled and why some of the poorer teams they knew, such as the White Tigers, had been unable to come, since they had no sponsor.

The Majestics were next, going up against the (alskd). Tyson and Max did much whopping and hollering for their friends, to which Ayah covered her ears to. Ray tugged on her arm to get her attention.

"Do you need to go somewhere quieter?" he asked.

 _Subtle_ , Kai thought. He wondered if Ray had been keeping an eye out for this kind of reaction in Ayah just so he could offer himself up. Then, in order to get somewhere quieter, he'd have an excuse to get her alone.

The thought annoyed him more than it should have. Kai excused himself by reasoning that he was simply disappointed in Ray's involvement with women in general. Love made one stupid, and he already had enough of that in his team.

When Ayah nodded, Kai looked the other way. He didn't want to see the look on Ray's face for some reason. No, it was because the match had just gotten under way. It had drawn his attention automatically.

Her fingertips on his arms startled him back to awareness, though he made sure not to let it show. She handed over her notebook.

 **Would you take me back to the locker room? All the noise is making me feel a bit ill.**

Kai couldn't help but glance at Ray, who he could tell was disappointed, though he hid it well.

He gave her an even look from beneath his eyebrows. "I'm sure you can find your own way."

She grabbed the notebook back to scribble something as she bit her lower lip.

 **No one but the teams are suppose to be down there. I need you to vouch for me.**

A cheer rose up from the audience as two blades shot out of the dish, one of them breaking into its various parts as it hit the ground. Kai glanced about her, feeling more than a little bit played. Why did she have to go back to the locker room specifically? If she needed quiet, couldn't she go out into the hall? Maybe out of the building completely? And why him?

He turned his attention back to her to tell her to buzz off or take Ray, but stopped as he met her eyes. They shivered on different spots of his face, unable to hold still. He glanced back down at her handwriting. Was it possible it was even worse than normal? She had her hands behind her so he couldn't tell. Now that he thought about it, she didn't look particularly sick. She looked…

He handed back the notebook and stood. Without a word he started off, hitting the steps two at a time. He didn't look back to see if she followed, knowing she would. When they stepped through the wire gate that separated the reserved seats with the rest of the peasantry, a small commotion ensued. He heard his name all but shouted as he rushed past, cursing his inability to just tell her to suck it up.

 _But it might have to do with_ them, he thought, and he couldn't ignore the possibility of those who had once controlled Ayah coming near his team again.

 _If I get to the top and find out she really is just acting scared because of all the noise or something pathetic like that_.

A girl near the top tried to make a show of tripping into him as she stepped out from her row. He side stepped her, however, and she fell on the steps instead. Ayah probably had no idea what she had been asking when she had asked him to leave the reserved seats. He had to dodge three more girls and a rather fashionable young man before he managed to reach the doors and out into the quiet stadium halls, since no one had bothered to fund opening a concessions stand. The noise of the crowd became a distant waterfall or the echoes of swimmers at a public pool.

He turned to face a breathless and flushed Ayah.

"What's the real reason you wanted me?"

She came up short of walking into him, doe-like eyes wider than ever. Her fingers fumbled over her notebook, but impatient, he snatched it from her fingers.

"I'll hear you."

She seemed unnerved at first by his aggression, but on seeing his gaze she seemed to recollect some of the semi-confidence she had when she had healed his side the night before.

"I-I don't know how to explain it—" she rasped, barely audible.

"Try."

Just then, the top doors opened and the wonderfully drabbed young man and two new women poked their heads out. Before their squawking could alert the other rabid fans to a BladeBreaker outside of the designated safe zone (honestly, Hillary hadn't through this through, and the Majestics had only been thinking about money), he stuffed the notebook in his pocket, grabbed Ayah, and yanked them into a run.

As was his habit, he had memorized the lay of Tokyo Beystadium years ago, even before he had met Tyson. At twelve he had seen the stadium through an assassin's eyes, making every nook and cranny a potential life saver or point of attack. Having no interest in spending his time dodging annoying fans or just gawking bystanders, he only went far enough to reach an 'employee's only' door. As he had hoped, someone on Hillary's 'team' must have left it unlocked, and he pulled Ayah after him, shoved the door closed and locked it.

A dim techie's light lit up a metal stairwell. The steps ran up, zigzagging back and forth to three more levels before vanishing into the darkness beyond. One of the doors had light peeking out from beneath it, and, based off his memories, that would be the booth where the amateur techie 'Danny' worked.

The sudden quiet alerted him to her heightened breathing. Her wrist in his grip was trembling.

"Kai." Her rasp had become a squeak. "Something's here."

"What's here?" he found himself whispering back. In the dim light her eyes had grown dark and the whites hid themselves in the shadows of her lashes.

"I don't know, I—it's what I felt—but we have to get to the others."

His grip tightened involuntarily, eliciting another squeak from her.

"You intended to get into the ring from the lockers," he said, and she tearfully nodded. "What's going to happen to the others? What others?"

Ayah suddenly flinched back, but not from him. Kai didn't need to have super hearing to catch the almost inaudible whistle.

Fire slivered through his veins. Dropping Ayah's wrist, he snatched his launcher and blade from his belt and spun about towards the darkness.

Somewhere, up there, a thin assassin's blade had been launched.

 **Merry Christmas to my dear readers and fellow beyblade fans. ^.^**


	9. Assassin's Blade

8

He knew that whisper of a whistle anywhere. He heard it in his dreams every night. It was the reason he never drank, why he hated noisy places and crowds, why he had to keep his senses alert at all times. Even as he stood there, feet apart, and launcher aimed straight up, he couldn't help but feel pained by Dranzer's weight in comparison to the assassin blade's. The memory of holding one of those obsidian beys was like a feather compared to the bulky tournament gear his phoenix now wore.

Ayah's hands twisted up against his back.

"Very top," she breathed against his ear.

He didn't have to try hard to remember what was beyond the darkness at the top of the staircases. It had been one of his favorite finds, as it led to the catwalks above the entire stadium, where the various lights that shown down on the show could be handled directly. It gave complete and full access to everyone in the stadium and seats at any time.

Ice spiked through his gut. _The others._ Had he wasted time interrogating Ayah?

The bang of his feet against the steps ricocheted in the tall tunnel like thunder. Light stabbed across the high darkness, momentarily showing a shadow of a figure as they passed through and on to the catwalks.

He wouldn't make it. He'd have to try.

"Dranzer!" He tore out the rip cord.

His beyblade landed on the metal railing with a burst of sparks. Dranzer shot up and off the end of the railing, a sparking, whizzing circle in the last light of the closing door.

Then, stomach in his throat, an old coldness falling over the heat of his blood. As he ran up he reached out for Dranzer and took hold of the burning consciousness.

 _Dranzer won't fail me,_ he told himself.

And he trusted Dranzer to the catwalks without his eyes to guide her.

In the very last crack of light, a blaze of orange and red flooded the white.

The darkness closed in once more. The noise of the crowd on the other side of the walls picked up, alarmed.

He kept on running.

He knew the number of breaths it had taken to get the top when his hand finally took hold of the door-

And he stepped out into a scene from hell.

Fire licked about his spinning blade in an orange-hot globe that retreated from the spinning black hole. Behind the assassin's blade was a masked individual wearing the same skin tight shirt and loose fitting black pants as Kai. Their eyes were but small mirrors of reflected fire. Screams had erupted from below as boxy theater lights fell and shattered. The super heated air crackled and snapped and sucked the breath from Kai's chest. He hadn't expected…he hadn't meant to summon so much fire…he had only wanted Dranzer to stop the assassin, cut them off, shatter the sliver thin black blade.

He could sense that the black figure on the other side of the fire was smiling.

"You've lost your touch," they said. "You must be terrified."

Kai flinched back to reality and snapped his teeth in a snarl. "Attack!"

The navy blade, ultra brightened by flame, shot forward with all the grace of a cyclone. More lights crackled down into the stadium below, their wires and ties melted.

The assassin's blade dodged Dranzer with ease, beating aside the flames with the simple force of the wind the blades collected, then dropped off the cat walk. The assassin blader flung themselves over the railing—down to the hundred foot drop below.

Despite himself, he panicked. In response, the brilliant white hot shape of his phoenix burst forth from his blade, cawing out as blade and bitbeast went over the edge with the assassin.

But the black assassin didn't fall. He caught hold of the underneath of the catwalk and shimmied along the bottom like a spider. The black blade whirled along the railing like the stripes of a candycane, kept along by sheer momentum.

Kai cursed. "Dranzer! Fly!"

The dropping beyblade whistled with the intensity of its renewed spin. It managed to angle itself just right to catch itself on a dangling cable, loosened by the loss of its light. The orb of flames and bird burst back over the catwalk in a shower of red feathers that landed about Kai as sparks and sheer heat. His skin tightened, itched, melted, burned. He could smell burning hair.

He had only just taken the first few running steps after the assassin when a second black blade whistled through the flames and cut across the side of his front leg. He didn't feel the pain, but his leg gave out beneath him all the same. He'd remember how bright red his blood had looked dripping through the grates to the stadium below.

Dranzer let loose a ferocious cry.

He forced his lungs to suck in the too hot air to yell his final command.

"Break them!"

And he offered his will wholeheartedly to his bitbeast.

Empowered, freed, the orb of the flames exploded. The stadium's lighting gear fell in earnest, the metal of the catwalk screeched as it warped, and forced him to close his eyes in fear his eyeballs might melt out.

But not before he saw the navy blue blade jump the last distance between it and the first assassin's blade like a bullet. The heavier, tournament grade blade shattered the delicate top.

With a roar Kai forced himself up to swing Dranzer back around to the second blade fleeing behind him, still flicking a trail of his blood along its way. The scent of burnt blood rolled up like rusted metal and grease. In a bolt of fire, Dranzer was there, smashing apart the second blade in a shower of glittering obsidian.

Gasping, Kai collapsed once more. The fire dropped along with him, shut out as quickly as a dropped curtain. His blade wobbled atop the precarious grooves of the grated catwalk, struggling to not get caught in a hole now that its speed was no longer fed by Kai's will.

Metal groaned. Kai gritted his teeth. He wasn't done. He had to catch them, had to—he took hold of the railing without thinking and let go with a shout as the heated metal seared his hand.

"Rusty. Superfluous. But you managed to break us, so I guess I can give you a warning." Black shoes, little more than socks of rubber and cloth, appeared in his watering, splotched vision. Past them, all he could make out of the stadium below was the red and blue blur of the beydish. "Even without that stunt you pulled two nights ago, he would have found you. You have his girl. If you don't cooperate with him, BladeBreakers will start dying. When we come, don't make us have to kill one to get you to listen."

Kai lashed out his unburned fist, but the black legs lithely dodged him. Damn it. He had gotten rusty.

"We'll…we'll back off for now," said the other, with more nervousness than seemed right. Even with his blade crushed, Kai was at his mercy.

The two black figures vanished. He hardly heard the tapping of their fleeing feet against the cracking of the metal catwalk as it cooled and glass lenses on lights popped. He finally started to register the pain of his burnt skin along with the growing screaming of his right leg. His blade clicked as it finally fell into a hole of the grating and crackled to a stop.

 **End**

 **Author's note: Stay tuned for the sequel, coming to you next week! Thank you for reading. ^.^**


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